


I Promise That You Won't Want To Get Off

by sonyashnyky



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, F/M, Graphic depictions of men taking off clothes for money, Graphic depictions of women getting hot and bothered, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 08:41:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10963671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonyashnyky/pseuds/sonyashnyky
Summary: Mei's been working awfully hard and deserves some relaxation.





	I Promise That You Won't Want To Get Off

**Author's Note:**

> It seemed like a good idea at 2am

The idle giggles and hoots of women could be heard a block over, florescent lights illuminating their path toward the flashy nightclub.  
  
It was Hana's idea. Of course it was Hana's idea. To be fair, it was for a good reason.  
Mei recently had her paper on climate manipulation published by a leading scientific journal and while her resume already boasted pretty heavily of awards and opportunities, to actually have her writing be available the world over as an academic study seemed surreal. The scientist needed to relax after a grueling few years and they all were overdue for a girls night out.  
Though it was hardly what Mei expected.  
  
Posters lined the building as they scurried closer, passing women dressed in short skirts, heels, and Bride-to-Be sashes. It took Mei only a glance at one of the advertisements-- 12 men who were ready to fulfill all her greatest fantasies-- to realize what was going on.  
  
"We have something very special lined up," Angela cooed, holding onto Mei's wrist and poking her cheek gently with a finger, nipping her chance to hesitate or whine. "Very, very special," Lena countered, winking and giving a lazy salute over her shoulder as she and Hana pushed through to talk to the bouncer.  
  
It was a flurry of IDs, drinks, and laughter after that as the women found their way inside and to their seats, dancing in their chairs to the electronic beat with one another, flashing colored lights pulsating with each thump of the bass. At least everyone was having a good time, right? Well, everyone but Mei who sunk down in her place as guest of honor, holding tight onto her second mojito and doing her best to hide her flushed cheeks. With that one glance of the poster outside, she knew which fantasy her friends were trying to fulfill.  
  
"I thought we would be going dancing," she finally confessed to Satya who offered a little more than a cool shrug before the lights dimmed.  
  
"There's dancing. Just not us."  
  
A male voice finally rang out from the DJ booth on the other side of the room, followed after by a sea of squeals and yells from the women around the stage.  
  
"Ladies," he said, scratching a record mid sentence, "you ready to get this party started!?" Mei could hear Lena and Zarya whistling loudly next to her and she couldn't help hiding her face behind her hands in embarrassment.  
  
After that, it seemed like it was one after the other, a parade of hard bodied men taking off their clothing and women shoving money into their slinky, sparkling underwear.  
Women unabashed by their wanton desires.  
  
She could see the appeal, don't get her wrong. The dancers certainly knew how to work the crowd or a particular lady into a frenzy, undressing them with their eyes as they slid up and down bodies like human poles. It was their job, after all. A job that they all seemed to like quite a bit. One dancer even took a liking to Angela, breaking away from his stern dance partner to quickly kiss the pad of his index finger, pressing it to the doctor's lips, and giving her a wink. At least the opportunity gave Mei a chance to tease before her own revenge came.  
  
  
Sooner than she thought.  
  
  
"Alright ladies, you're looking great," the DJ cheered into the mic, a few bars of an old country song coming out of the speakers. "Now our next guy likes to call himself a 'good, down-home boy', but I guess I'll let you all check if for yourselves." With a spin of the track, a man stepped out onto the stage and into the white spotlight, earning a wave of screams from the audience.  
And all eyes looking at Mei in their little group.  
  
She wouldn't say she had a cowboy fetish like her friends would say. Mei received no sexual gratification from the plaid shirts and boots themselves, but coupled with some jeans, hat, olive skin, and beard, it certainly had its appeal.  
_A very big appeal_.  
  
The dancer gave a once over to the room, tipping his hat back to show more of his scruffy face and shaggy hair before smiling and turning back on his heels.  
  
"Just go up there now," Hana urged, pushing Mei's shoulder insistently before Sombra leaned in with camera in tow, swatting Hana's hand away.  
  
"Or..."  
  
"Or?" Mei turned, mix of discomfort and alcohol glowing bright on her cheeks.  
  
The music picked up before she could answer and Mei was simply left with watching. Staring.  
  
There was audience participation. Women who had been picked from the crowd at, what Mei assumed to be, random and given lap dances or placed on the floor to have the dancer pretend to wiggle and thrust over her body.  
  
Was it random?  
  
It had to have been random.  
  
Either way, the man tucked his thumbs into his jeans, swiveling his hips to the beat and highlighting the gold belt buckle glimmering in the lights. It was a place Mei wanted to keep her eyes from peering to, much to her curiosity. It was perverse and dirty, but their was certainly a part of her that didn't care. That wanted to feel the denim fabric against her fingertips and that wild facial hair along her neck.  
As the song played on, cementing him as an anachronism here for their pleasure, he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, showing a little bit more skin with each scream of the crowd. More with each tip that rained down. Mei didn't want to admit she knew the song and all the words. Or how she really, really, wanted to see more of his body.

Him shaking his ass worked too.  
  
"Don't worry," Angela yelled over the cheers, taking Mei's empty glass along with her own back to the bar, "I know what you're thinking and it's coming."  
  
The spotlight followed him as he sauntered into the crowd, women shoving dollars into his pants pockets and finding an excuse to feel his torso as he eyed the audience around. It finally settled on Mei and a smirk curled on his lips as he approached her table and tipped his hat.  
  
"Evenin' sugarplum," _heavens_ , even his accent was perfect.  
  
Mei could barely speak, distracted by the heat of the room, the alcohol, and the perfect man standing in front of her, enticing giggles from her friends and a genuine smile from the dancer who leaned down to her level.  
  
"Love fer a pretty lady like yurself t'join me," he uttered, taking her hand and enticing her up to her feet. Though that was the only warning he really gave.  
As soon as Mei stood, he scooped her up in his arms, cradling her back and thighs as he carried her to the stage. She was hardly light, even without her equipment, but he made it look so easy.  
  
A chair had been placed on the platform during his absence and he wasted no time settling her down and straightening her up. A gentlemanly move that burned into her chest, down to the pit of her stomach.  
Squeezing her cheek gently, the dancer smiled reassuringly, almost relishing in the shy curiosity of his patron.  
  
Yes, there were at least 100 other women surrounding them, including her friends now hooting and all holding out cameras, but watching him felt so intimate. Like he was truly doing this all just for her. He wasn't. Mei wasn't naive enough to fall for an exotic dancer, but there was no shaking that he was perfect. Exactly like the cowboys in all those old movies she loved so dearly.  
  
  
A new song picked up, not a country song, but certainly old fashioned. With a thick, syrupy beat, Mei squeezed her thighs together, fighting with her tight dress that suddenly showed too much thigh, too much cleavage, or both. Not that it mattered. The man hovering over her, dancing and gyrating, would be showing a lot more soon enough.  
  
  
When the chorus hit, he delivered in spades.  
  
  
Mei could hear the lyrics talking about 'doing it' and jumping into the singer's metaphorical saddle. The singer, in this case, being played by the dancer who teased the plaid shirt off his shoulders as he kicked a leg over her hips, almost beckoning her to undress him herself. It certainly didn't help that his thumbs returned to frame his belt buckle, emphasizing how his jeans strained to hover over her lap. Struggled to contain whatever was hidden below.  
  
He knew. He could clearly see her tense shoulders behind those thick blue straps. How her neck ducked down, sheepishly tracing her eyes over all the places she wanted to touch. Either that or it was a cleverly placed part of his routine, grabbing her hands and guiding them down to feel the warm muscles of his arms.  
Down his chest.  
Stomach.  
Until her fingertips rested just shy of anything obscene, teasing the leather of the belt around his waist.  
  
It was all the goading she needed before Mei continued to explore herself, hands playing at the cool metal and raised letters while he thrust rhythmically into her touch, making her face heat and throat dry. Perhaps it was a little lucky how short lived it was.  
  
Seconds after, when enough gall had built up in Mei to search lower, the man grabbed her again, holding her arms up above her head as his other leg kicked over her lap, twisting off and rolling around the back of the wooden chair. Never mind the bright lights, the rum flowing through her bloodstream, the eyes and cameras pointed straight in her direction, it was him that made her hot. His roguish body strewn with hair and muscle was, yes, everything she had ever dreamed and fantasized of. Thoughts she kept to herself on quiet nights or cool showers. Sweat began to bead and trickle down her forehead, threatening to ruin her makeup.  
  
He finally let go, continuing his show to the adoring room that Mei dumbly looked out at, locking eyes at her friends. _Her friends_ , bless them, all cheering, filming, and urging her to turn around and enjoy everything that was going on behind her. The dance that was getting better and better the longer he entertained.  
  
A roar erupted and she quickly found out what for.  
  
The man returned back in front of her, smiling and stroking his torso up and down for her to relish. It didn't take long for her to notice his missing shirt and shoes. Or the buckle her fingers had been exploring earlier now undone and open, showing the dark trail of hair from his navel and dipping below the thick, silver button of his pants. He straddled her again, this time facing the crowd instead of herself, letting her gaze at his bare back and, more likely, the way his backside looked in stonewashed denim.  
  
This time Mei wasted no time, reaching out to feel the muscles of his back while he teased his belt off to the rest of the audience. She could hear Angela cheering and Zarya whistling from the table and Mei's face burned bright, locking eyes with her dream man as he turned to look at his patron.  
  
"Go ahead, lil lady," there was a glint in his eyes as he finally pulled his belt off and let it drop to the ground, the thunk of metal deafened by the screams of the crowd, "whatever makes ya happy, I'm here t'do it."  
  
It was like he fed off her energy. Grew hungry for her lust and curiosity. Wanted to make her blush and sweat than she ever had before.  
  
He alternated between stroking up and down his own thighs, sitting back gingerly in her lap, and reaching down to do the same to her, letting his fingers dip just below where her dress covered. He could hear her soft gasp even with the blaring music and clamor from the mob below. The bite of her nails traveling down his skin certainly wasn't enough and the dancer soon moved away and crossed back with a tip of his cowboy hat, facing his patron face to face again.  
  
He placed his knee between her legs, causing Mei to involuntarily spread them as he held steady against the chair's back, making a point to lay his arm against her shoulder, keeping her steady under him. He took her wrist again, guiding her hand completely down his body this time. Down below where his jeans were unbuttoned, flash of red and brown underwear just visible along the waistband. Down against that straining silver zipper she had eyed before, feeling the generousness of things her mind had long imagined to see.  
Then slowly.  
Ever so slowly.  
Back up again.

Denying her hands the chance to linger too long.  
  
The music picked up, repeating the first thirty seconds or so of the introduction, giving the dancer a chance to tease the crowd with what they had longed, and paid, to see.  
  
Thrusting his hips against Mei, implying something devious and lewd on his mind, the man played with the opened button of his jeans, hinting at what was about to happen next, leaving her frozen on the spot. Yes, somehow, some way, she almost forgot that he was technically a _stripper_. Someone who would take his clothes off soon enough. Maybe that just meant he was good at his job. Good at building lore and fantasy within one lucky lady. Or that she was so smitten that it didn't matter in the slightest. It certainly mattered now.  
  
Now that his zipper was completely down, Mei could peek at the high cut underwear that hid below. The gold that sparkled along the edges of the small scrap of fabric that did wonders at showcasing everything.

Her eyes widened at the discovery and the dancer simply smiled at her surprise, bending his thumb under her chin and pulling it up. Giving him better access to lay a scratchy kiss along her neck.

Mei didn't remember much after that. No recollection of how he moved away to show the crowd his work and gauging if he should go further. No memory of him actually doing so, dropping his jeans down and around his ankles, kicking them off to the side and continuing to dance. The heat of her own body became unbearable and her mind fogged completely to what was going on around her.  
That feeling of his lips against her skin was just too much.

It wasn't until he scooped her in his arms again, carrying her bridal style back to her table that she noticed anything. Felt the heat that had grown between her legs and she was thankful, for the first time in her life, for her thick thighs. Enjoyed the scent of whiskey, tobacco, and leather that clung fiercely to his skin and try to think of something, anything, that would be able to keep that scent in her memory forever. 

"You get home safe, ma'am, alright?" The dancer placed her back down in her chair, just as gingerly as before, winking and turning back to the stage. "Almost forgot--" turning back, he took off his hat, bowed, and placed it crookedly on Mei's head, "--name's McCree. In case y'wanna come back t'these here parts."

She prided herself in keeping a level head and conscious mind. Never jumping to conclusions or doing anything reckless. It was always the scientific thing to do.

Well.

Mei reached out for his wrist, pulling him back towards the table and down to her level.  
A beat.  
Before tugging on his shoulder and dropping him to her lips, free hand fishing down to shove a $20 bill into the waist of his thong. Before she finally pulled away, flustered and beet red, and scurried to the back of the nightclub and to the bar.

Her friends would swear later that he told them, and they quote, "I like that one", but given how they paid him to dance for her, it was hardly believable.

Instead, she chose to stay near the bar for the last two acts, holding onto the hat perched over her hairpin with one hand and reaching out desperately to the friendly omnic bartender with a bowtie around its neck.

"Do you have any ice? Just ice. Please."

**Author's Note:**

> Remember that one time I went to a nightclub in Russia and there were male strippers in cages over the dancefloor and I got scared so I went back to my dorm? Ah, yes
> 
> I sort of wanted a more pre fall AU-y young gun, no shame TeenCree trying to seduce our favorite thicc scientist with a private lap dance in her empty lab. Might actually write it using the same song
> 
> Then I can take my rightful throne as trash panda of OW fandom
> 
> Song 1
> 
> [ [x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qt0_oPPK6eA) ]
> 
> Song 2
> 
> [ [x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lbnoG2dsUk0) ]
> 
> We all know strip clubs have horrible tastes in music and lbr, anything McCree would pick would not be appropriate for taking off clothes. At least not while he's stone cold sober


End file.
